


Unbreakable Bucky Barnes

by Sorrell



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes vs. the Future, Capture, Community: capkink, Community: capkinkmeme, Fluff, Kidnapping, Light Angst, M/M, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4079893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorrell/pseuds/Sorrell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[05 March 2003, approximately 16:45]: James Buchanan Barnes and his best friend Steven Grant Rogers, then 13 years of age, said goodbye to each other on the corner of York and Bridge St. after stopping at Nelson’s Deli to pick up some small items for their mothers. They had been delayed at school to serve a detention received for a fistfight in the schoolyard at lunchtime, departing at 16:10. S. Rogers was the last person to see him.</p><p>James B. Barnes vanished without any leads, two blocks from his house. A few drops of blood and scattered groceries were found at the scene. No security camera footage.</p><p>[04 June 2015]: James B. Barnes (26) found alive, along with Timothy Dugan (28), Gabriel Jones (25), and James Morita (27), in a bunker hidden beneath a cornfield on the farm of Johann Schmidt (58) outside of Shelbyville, Indiana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve arrived home at 19:45, absolutely wiped from his day of travel. He’d flown to Los Angeles in wee hours of the morning and headed to Tony’s Malibu residence via a private car. Then he waited around for a few hours as his boss finished tinkering in his basement workshop, only to have him insist on driving himself to the airport. Long accustomed to a high level of exasperation when it came to Tony Stark, he merely rolled his eyes behind the dark sunglasses Stark insisted he wear while on duty and set off to follow his silver Audi down the sunny coastline.

At least the flight wasn’t a trial- they had rolled directly onto the tarmac at LAX, and devoured fresh sushi and a Die Hard marathon. Tony dissected all the holes in the films, talking over the actors. Steve was his dedicated escort because he nodded along, understood which weapons were which, and didn’t complain. At least, that’s what Stark claimed.

They landed at JFK at 16:55- just in time for rush hour. It was a crawl to Midtown to drop him off at his Tower, taking him up to his residence and wrangling his rolling suitcase. It was as heavy and unwieldy as one of his workshop robots. Steve still used an army-style rucksack slung across his back when he had to travel more than a day. Tony told him to have Happy drive him back to Brooklyn, waving his hand in a magnanimous farewell as he went to kiss Pepper hello and pester her for a while. “And take that leftover sushi with you!” He called over his shoulder.

“Thank you, Happy. Have a good night!” Steve said as he exited the sleek town car. 

Happy, after a year of Steve insisting he’d get the door himself, remained seated. “You too, Captain Rogers!” 

Steve sighed heavily as he shut his apartment door behind him, toeing off his shoes as he set them in the hall closet and shrugging off the black suit jacket he’d been in all day. He took a second to relish the silence. The jacket lay crumpled on the floor and he stared tiredly at it for a few seconds before picking it up and hanging it up in his closet. “Ma would have your hide.” He muttered to himself, unbuttoning his shirt and rolling up his cuffs as he headed into the kitchen.

He had just set down a tray of sushi and a chilled Heineken (Tony would call him sacrilegious if he could have seen him mix the two, but not everyone had a bar in their house) on the coffee table when his cell started lighting up, buzzing angrily from the end table.

He plopped down heavily on his enormous sofa and swiped it open. “Hello, Ma? Everything all right?” She didn’t call him often since they saw each other every week for church and Sunday dinner. It was a Thursday. 

“Are you at home? Turn on the TV! Channel 7!” She practically shouted, tears choking her voice. What on earth- he felt a jolt of panic in his chest as he fumbled for the remote, mashing the buttons in his rush. Her breathless sobs in his ear weren’t quite drowned out by the blaring volume of his TV from when Clint was last over.

Lowering the volume, he focused on the broadcast of a…cornfield?

The crisp voice of the newscaster overlaid the picture. “Four men, each missing for over a decade, were discovered in this underground bunker on the farm of Johann Schmidt just a few hours ago, after a waterworks employee reported unauthorized pipelines running from the main line and local police went to investigate. Schmidt is in custody, and the men are being held overnight for medical observation. Here’s the footage of them being freed from their prison."

His heart had started thrumming at her words. There was no way. Having surrendered his hope for any answers, Steve saw a miracle unfold in the cornfields of Shelbyville, Indiana. First, a black man was pulled out from below, his pants a good four inches too short. Then, a man with shoulder-length brown hair and stubble was lifted out. An officer steadied him as he looked confused and overwhelmed, squinting in the late afternoon sunset. An Asian man and a burly redheaded man with a thick mustache joined them as officers lowered themselves into the bunker. Their first breath of fresh air was captured on video for the world to see, and even the newscasters had fallen silent for a reverent second. His eyes remained fixed on the man with brown hair, and he saw a broad, thrillingly familiar smile cross his face. 

Steve wheezed, for the first time since he was 14 and Dr. Erskine had started him on steroids for his asthma, as well as a vitamin regime, diet program, and special scoliosis brace to drastically transform his body. 

“He-“ He broke off into a cough. “He-"

“It’s him! He’s alive, Steve! Bucky’s alive!” His Ma cried. 

Steve kept watching the screen in stunned disbelief, saw the men in tattered clothes nod at each other with determined faces, their unkempt hair blowing around as they were herded into a police van.

“Oh my god.” Steve burst into tears. “Ma!” He hiccuped. They hadn’t released any names yet, but he knew. That smile had kicked him in the gut. “That was him!”

Tears streamed down his face and they felt like a benediction. 

\---

He scarfed down a few bites of sushi with his bare hands before barreling out the door, still in half of his suit. He’d jammed his feet into his running shoes and thus he looked completely ridiculous. Bucky would laugh if he could see him, he thought, and for the first time in 12 years it filled him with hysterical joy instead of despair. He damn near sprinted the 10 blocks to the Barnes' residence, feeling more like he was walking on air than the crowded sidewalks of a balmy June evening.

He pulled the gate’s chain and went around to the back door of their small house as they’d told him to do when he was a tiny elementary schooler and had to jump to catch the washer that acted as the pulley. He knocked loudly on their back door to find the three of them and his mother in the living room. He hugged all of them and they all laughed out of sheer disbelief.

“We just got off the phone with him, Steve, but he had to go! You just missed him!” Everyone’s faces were tear-streaked and absolutely beaming. It was a weird combination. 

Winifred and Becca were still crying. “My baby boy’s alive.” She sobbed. Becca rubbed her shoulders. 

“It’s nothing short of a miracle.” Sarah said, her voice still watery. 

George’s shoulders had lost a tension they’d held ever since Steve could remember. “He’ll need a lot of help to get his life started again. All of them will."

“Well, he’s got us.” Steve said firmly. “When does he come home?” 

“We’re flying out in the morning, soon as we can. The police said that they’ll have to debrief him which might take a while. So we’re not sure right now, Steve. Next week sometime.” Winnie said in a rush.

“All right, you let me know.” He replied. 

Winnie came over to him and hugged him to her. “You precious boy. I can’t believe you still came over for all of his birthday remembrances. Every year except when you were overseas. I don’t know too many people who would have done that, Steve."

“He’s my best friend.” Steve said, always a little embarrassed by praise. He had kept using present tense while talking about Bucky as a show of faith, but it had grown more difficult as the years went on. Now, it was an unparalleled relief in his life to use it truthfully.

“He’ll be so happy to see you. And surprised.” She grinned at him. They’d all been shocked when Steve had sprouted up. Steve could see the grief in her face each time he visited, knowing that she was thinking about how tall Bucky would be, if he was still breathing in the world somewhere. She’d hidden it well, but there was always a split-second grimace of pain. Sometimes she’d excuse herself to fetch him a drink, just to wipe away her tears in the kitchen. There was no trace of that old hurt now.

They stood and talked for a little longer. Bucky’s room had been an untouched shrine in the Barnes’ household- a poster for the Matrix now yellowed with peeling corners above his dresser and his GameBoy still set on his nightstand, halfway through Pokémon Ruby. Steve had gotten Sapphire so they could trade and get all of them. After…after, he had put his console in the hard-to-reach shelf in his closet. He couldn’t bear to even turn it on again, couldn’t bear to get rid of it, and had only ever played video games at Clint or Sam’s place. 

Steve promised Winifred to give it a dusting, and wash his sheets over the weekend while they were in Indiana. He knew where the spare key was. Jesus, his bed would be too small now, all of the clothes hanging in the closet for a middle school boy. He’d have to bring over some extra clothes of his to get him by until they could go shopping for him. 

They all thanked him warmly, but they had to get packing. Becca walked him to the back door. 

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” She said. She’d been 7 when Bucky had been taken, and it was like the sun had fallen out of the sky. Her rambunctious big brother’s room dark and silent, the dinner table solemn. Steve didn’t come over as often so she couldn't bother him for a drawing. She couldn’t watch the two of them play catch in the yard, and had no one to play tea party with her, and didn’t understand why. Winifred or George had walked her to and from school every day for years, now afraid to let her out of their sight. 

Overprotectiveness had caused a lot of fights between her and her parents, especially as a teenager. She had been pretty obnoxious, but it was out of desperation for a little freedom, to go over to her friend's houses after school without having to be walked by a parent. She was frustrated at the shadow that had hovered over her family since 2003. The only time she had mentioned Bucky in a shouting match, George had flinched and Winnie had gone pale, and without another word to her daughter, she turned to go upstairs and climbed into bed.

“I-I’m sorry!” Becca had stammered as her father turned away, shoulders hunched and his hand over his eyes. She hadn’t brought it up again, and all three of them had had red eyes in the morning.

Now she was a college student, home for the summer from Virginia. She was studying physical therapy down in William & Mary. Bucky had wanted to be a football player when he entered high school and never got the chance, so Becca had thrown herself into sports, track and volleyball. She wanted him to be proud of her.

“I’ll be awake for a while too.” Steve said. He patted her on the head. “See ya later, Becks."

“Hey!” She yelped. She batted his hand away and sighed. “Do you think he’ll be okay?"

“He’s tough.” Steve said. He was thinking of the desert, of Tony, of Sam and Riley. “You’d be surprised what you can live through. Let me know if there’s anything I can do."

She shook her head. “Just what you’ve been doing. Just be here."

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her. “C’mon, Ma, I’ll walk you home!” He called into the living room.

Sarah came out and took his arm. “I’m so glad, darling.” She said as they walked through the gate, the sidewalks quiet now. “So glad."

“Me too, Ma.” Steve said.

\---

The Commandos, as they’d dubbed themselves over the many play-fights they’d had in their bunker, were all set up in their hospital room together. Medical had checked them out and they’d had no issues besides some vitamin deficiencies, particularly vitamin D from the lack of sunlight. None of them thought they could sleep without the rhythmic breathing of the others. And Dugan’s snores. 

“Looks like the world hasn’t ended yet.” Tim said in his usual joking manner. They all shook their heads. Schmidt had told them that a few months after the four of them had been collected. 

“I’ve saved you.” He said. “Hydra will rise up and be the new world order now. Everyone will surrender their freedom and be better for it.” They had tried not to believe it, but after the World Trade Center attacks two years before, that fear had weighed heavily on their minds. That day really had felt like the world was ending.

“We’re all gonna get split up now.” Gabe whispered sadly.

They’d been snatched by Schmidt from different parts of the states. He’d gone to various farming-related conventions and they were the ones he had come across at opportune moments. Morita was from California, Dugan from Pennsylvania, and Gabe from Illinois. 

“We’ll be with our families again. And we can always write letters.” Jim said. “And visit each other."

“There’s e-mail now too,” Tim’s voice rumbled by the door. “I remember the computers being delivered at school.” As the oldest, he had always insisted on having the best vantage point to protect them.

“I want to go to France.” Gabe said. Bucky could practically feel Morita roll his eyes. Gabe had a weird fascination with France and wouldn’t shut up about it. He had had a pen pal in elementary school that he seemed to miss as much as his school friends. “He’ll be waiting for me to write back! And I never have!” He had cried sometimes on rough days in the early years.

“I’m gonna see Steve again.” Bucky murmured, the others nodding. The Commandos knew each of their families in and out. They’d heard the stories and respected his crazy friend who was skinny as a rake and fought off bigger kids for picking on people and not minding their manners. Who knew what kind of trouble he'd gotten into without Bucky there?

“What’s gonna be the first thing you eat on the outside, boys?” Dum-Dum asked sleepily. They’d had a lot of inventive meals using corn. The hospital food hadn't been much better.

“My mom’s miso soup. Lots of tofu.” Jim said with no small hint of nostalgia. The other Commandos had never had Japanese food, but now they could try it.

“A steak as big as my face.” Tim said. 

“A Nathan’s hot dog and a chocolate shake.” Bucky added. The other guys groaned. Chocolate!

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and meatloaf.” Gabe said. “Momma’s specialty."

“I can’t believe we’re actually free.” Bucky murmured.

“12 damn years.” Jim added. They hadn’t had a calendar and had only had a rough estimate from when Bucky was caught- he was the last one. The others were silent as they took it in. 

“Better make the most of it, boys.” Dugan said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating may go up!
> 
> Inspired by a capkink meme for an Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt AU. Obviously there's some limitations there and you don't need to have watched the show to understand this fic. But it is a hilarious show so you should give it a whirl! 
> 
> This chapter was especially angst-heavy, but overall it's supposed to be quite a happy story! I'll try to update within the week.
> 
> This is my first creative work since I was a high school student, so I could use some encouragement! I've been trying to sit down and write something for like half a year. Kudos are appreciated, but please drop me a comment of any kind! Constructive criticism welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming back to life brings a lot of reunions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Some details of abduction and mentions of abuse, from Schmidt to the Commandos. Not very graphic.

Steve made it home, popped his now-lukewarm beer back into the fridge, and let out a big, heaving sigh. He felt hollowed-out in a clean way; he’d gotten used to the grief that weighed heavy on his shoulders and now it was lifted away.

He wanted nothing more than to sink into his bed, but he still had work to do.

“Hey ol’ Cap ol’ buddy ol’ pal.” Tony was the only person he knew to reliably pick up the phone at 11pm sounding totally wired, even after their long day. There was a muted clanging in the background. “What’s up with you?"

“Hey Tony, sorry to bother you so late.” Steve always apologized, and he could practically feel the eye-roll. “I wanted to ask you if it’s okay to take some time off next week. I know it’s sudden."

There was a slight scraping noise on the other end, like he’d shifted his stool around. His voice was focused and intent- and Tony was a dog with a bone when he was curious about something. “That’s not like you. In fact, I can’t think of you ever taking more than the vacation days Pepper practically _made_ you take. You only went down to D.C., too, which is totally lame by the way. It’s no big deal, I just wanna know why so out of the blue. You didn't mention anything earlier.” 

“That’s because I had to carry you up to your suite last time we went to Vegas and that’s not a vacation for me.” Steve cleared his throat. "Have you watched the news at all today?” 

“Ugh, unfortunately. Pepper turns it on when I have my post-dinner coffee, says I can’t come out of my workshop not knowing about the latest oil spill. More like the latest fluff piece on Bath and Body Works bringing back cucumber melon, she was excited about that. The best that money can buy at her fingertips and she’ll brave that fragrance cave. Anyway, the only real thing of note today was those men they found in Indiana.” He whistled. “I’d say I can’t imagine what it was like for them to be held in captivity, but unfortunately I can picture it all too clearly. I bet a crazy farmer was at least a little more gentle than the Ten Rings. What’s that got to do with you?"

“The guy with brown-hair? That’s my best friend, we’ve known each other since kindergarten.” His voice caught for a second. “I was the last one to see him before he was taken."

He heard a sharp metallic clink as Tony set down whatever tool he was holding. There was a few seconds of silence, the first time Steve had ever caught him speechless. 

“Holy shit, Rogers."

Steve nodded. “I know, it’s crazy."

“You guys were what, fourteen when he was taken?"

"It was a week before his fourteenth birthday."

"Jesus. Okay, first, where’s the fundraiser for these guys?"

“The what?"

“You know, a kickstarter, an indiegogo or gofundme. They’re just gonna toss these guys back into the world with the dust bunnies in their piggy banks? No. **JARVIS**!” Tony shouted, making Steve jump. “Set up a page for these men- do they have a nickname yet? We should make a nickname. Ixnay any mention of mole-men, that’s just uncouth. Get Lewis to tweet it on our official tweeter, tell them I’ll triple the amount raised."

“Tony! You don’t-“ The ball was already rolling, and Steve had no choice but to dodge it with Indiana Jones-level agility.

“Nope, shut it. You and your babyhood friend are gonna get wildly drunk with me as thanks and I won’t hear another word about it."

“Thanks a lot, Tony, you really don’t have to do it, but I’m thankful all the same."

“Tell me about him when you’ve got the time, there’s nothing happening until the New York Tech Convention at the end of this month so take all the time you need til then. Today’s probably been a roller coaster for you, huh? I’ll let you go catch some z’s."

“If I tell you you’re the best will you make me notarize it?” Steve joked. He was right about the roller coaster- seeing Tony’s boundless generosity always bowled him over. It never failed to impress him after having seen his bad reputation printed on the tabloids at the supermarket for years before they’d actually met. “First thing we’ll do when I come to the Tower next. I’m gonna go then, so good night."

“Don’t be a stranger!” There was a blast of rock music before the connection cut. 

Steve went over to plug in his phone, then practically dragged himself into the shower. He’d call Nat in the morning.

\---

The Commandos were woken up early, disoriented by the bright sunshine streaming through the hospital windows. They’d only had dingy, uncovered lightbulbs to illuminate their rooms. The police had thankfully supplied them with sunglasses yesterday after seeing their squinting, watery eyes.

“Hey fellas.” The peppy blond nurse popped her head in. “You all feeling all right today?” They weren’t hooked up to any machines, having cleared the preliminary medical checks the night before, so she didn’t come in to check their vitals.

“Yes ma’am.” They said in a meek chorus.

"Chief Phillips said that they’d be moving you guys to the station for breakfast and then your families will be flying in throughout the day. I hope you have a great reunion with them.” Her eyes grew a little bright at this, but her smile broadened. 

“Thanks for everything.” Jim said. The others murmured a thank you.

“My pleasure, guys. Now, I have a couple of officers here who’ll take you, they have showers and a change of clothes for you at the station so get ready to go, okay?"

They sprung up and mobilized. 

\---

They did rock, paper, scissors- their ultimately fair way to pick turns for everything, from the latest pack of secondhand clothing Schmidt tossed to them, or who got the last bit of soup- to decide who got to shower first. The police had prepared a little toiletry kit and sweats emblazoned with **Indianapolis PD** for each of them. In the meantime, they hung out in the kitchen trying out the coffee they had. Bucky winced at the bitterness and dumped in a bit more milk and sugar- and wasn’t that a luxury?

When he finally got to shower (last, why did he always pick scissors?), he blinked in shock at his reflection. He knew he’d gotten taller, but there hadn’t been a mirror in their prison. Yesterday was such a whirlwind, and it was nighttime by the time they’d gotten to the hospital. Their room was an unusual setup, beds moved in so they could stay together. Their bathroom just had a toilet and a tiny sink.

He touched a hand to the scruff on his jaw. Schmidt went through phases of keeping them supplied- he would go away for a spell and they’d be down to rationing the canned goods. When they’d needed a shave, the other guys set up a barbershop-style line of taking turns on each other, but all of their razors had grown too dull and rusty to shave with. 

His eyes were the same, but his hair way too long- he looked like the Nirvana poster Foggy Nelson had had up in his room before he'd moved to Hell's Kitchen. The comparison made him laugh to himself, and there- the strange unfamiliarity of his own face faded away. His jawline was strong, even if he was pale and too thin. He thought he wasn’t half-bad.

The shower was the hottest one he’d had in more than a decade- no wonder the boys had all taken 20 minutes. The shower in their bunker had been lukewarm with extremely low pressure. Bucky toweled off and carefully took up the razor to shave, and he was proud that he only nicked himself once.

Chief Phillips was waiting for them when they finished up. It was almost nine in the morning, and Bucky’s heart picked up at the thought of seeing his family again in only an hour and a half.

Phillips’ voice was a gravely bark. "We’re gonna get you boys lookin’ pretty before your families come in. These kind ladies own a salon a few blocks away, and they offered to set up shop here to get you squared away. Now get a move on, that’s right."

The women led them back to the kitchen where they’d put out some stools and laid out clippers. Bucky shook his stylist's hand a little awkwardly and plunked onto his seat. She bound up his hair to lessen the amount that would fall on the floor.

"Are frosted tips still cool?" Bucky asked curiously as she finished sawing through his ponytail. 

The lady pulled back to stare him in the face, setting down the hunk of hair on the counter like a piece of small game. "Oh, honey. Oh, you sweet summer child."

"I was born in the spring." Bucky said, utterly bewildered. 

"Mm-mn." She said, shaking her head. “They weren’t cool back then, either, we’ve just learned our lesson on that. Now, which way do you part your hair?”

\---

They pulled them all aside into more private rooms to be reunited with their families. Gabe’s parents and older sisters lived the closest, and Bucky heard them as soon as they came in the station, shouting Gabe’s name with joy. The officers out front smiled, and Bucky bounced his leg up and down with nervousness.

Dugan was an only child, and his mom Cheryl had raised him by herself, with some help from his grandparents. He could faintly hear him crying in the next room over, his deep voice shaking as hers soothed him. He knew Tim had liked having them as brothers to take care of, but he had had trouble sleeping sometimes, worried about his mom and how she was doing on her own. When Bucky saw her later, she was a pretty blonde lady with well-fitted clothes; she’d gotten married to a nice man who often had business at the insurance office where she worked as a receptionist, a few years after Tim vanished. Schmidt had caught him when he stopped at a drive-in dairy to get a Gatorade before football practice at his rural high school. 

“Those years in between were real tough on me, sweetheart.” She told Dum-Dum, brushing her hand lovingly over his hair when they sat down to lunch. “But I made it through. And you did too."

His heart nearly stopped when he heard footsteps stop outside his door, the escorting officer opening up the room for him. His mom was already shedding tears.

“Mom! Dad! Becca!” He yelled, running into their arms. They were crying and laughing, enclosing him into a circle. The smell of their hair and whatever lotion his mom used were just the same. His parents looked older, certainly, but not as much as he feared- he had imagined them shrunken with withered hands, gray streaks in their hair. Certainly, they were a little grayed and they had some wrinkles around their eyes, but they both looked strong and healthy. Becca was the real shock, suddenly full-grown like that Tom Hanks movie he’d liked where he danced on the piano. Her voice was different too.

“My Bucky, my baby.” His mom sobbed into his newly cut hair, tucked into his shoulder now, Becca resting her head on his other one. Jesus, he was nearly eye-to-eye with his dad! It was so strange and wonderful to have them there with him, changed as they all were.

“I love you.” He choked out, desperately glad to be finally able to tell them to their faces instead of his imagination. “I love you so much."

\---

“He the one by the coffeepot?” Natasha asked, her voice crackling over the line. He had hung up a small picture of the two of them from their elementary school carnival, their faces painted and arms slung around each other, grinning into the camera. It had that beautiful graininess of a photo taken on film. It looked exactly like his own memories.

“You’d noticed that, huh?” Steve said. He’d always glance at it after he hit the brew button, a morning ritual as much as the coffee was. He never used the timer function on it.

“I notice everything, Rogers.” Natasha’s powers of observation were unparalleled. And Steve had an eye for detail- he was an artist in his free time. But he didn’t keep a sharp eye on all the time like she did. “I did wonder who he was, but I figured there was a reason why you never told me; I wasn’t going to press you on it. I’m really happy for you. Let us know when he’s up to meeting the crew."

“Will do.” Steve promised. “His mom called me earlier, said they’d be flying in on Tuesday."

“You haven’t talked to him yourself?” She sounded surprised.

“No, not yet, he’s been tied up in debriefings from dawn til dusk, apparently. She said he was doing great, just worn out from rehashing everything."

“Are you nervous?” 

“Yeah, I am. I can’t help but think…maybe he won’t like me anymore? We’re not kids anymore. So much time has gone by..."

“You’re being ridiculous. Everyone likes you unless you’re giving them the dressing down."

Steve huffed a laugh into the receiver. “Well, I ain’t gonna do that to him."

“Clint and I won’t see each other for months at a time and as soon as we see each other it’s like it’s been a day.” She said gently. "I know your situation is incredibly different, but I’m certain you two will be fine."

Steve was quiet for a second. “All right."

"I’ll draw up a list of things that we should keep in mind for getting him his independence back. Therapy, a GED, a job, a rundown of pop culture and history for the time he’s missed. I see a lot of movie marathons in our future.” 

"That sounds great, Nat, thanks a lot. He’s a sci-fi fan if you could make a collection."

“Ooh, good man. **Pacific Rim** is gonna blow his mind."

Steve laughed. “You have no idea. He’s gonna talk my ear off about what our Jaegar would be called. Hell, he’ll probably make me draw it up."

Natasha’s smile colored her voice. “You two would be co-pilots?” She asked. Her tone was digging for something, and he hated when she did that.

“Yeah yeah, I can feel you plotting something.” Steve said, and Nat just hummed in response.

“I’ll call around and get the ball rolling, you can run it by him and his family. I’m sure you and Sam can take care of a lot for him too. Not Clint because he’s a barely functioning human without me.” Steve chuckled at that. He’d been to Clint’s apartment when she was gone on a long business trip. He’d seen cleaner trenches.

"I gotta go now, I have a 4 o’clock consultation and I gotta get some caffeine in me beforehand or these dimwits are going to make me lose it.” She made a smacking kissing noise and hung up. 

Steve shook his head and smiled. Poor bastards.

\---

"Okay, Mr. Barnes, why don't you tell us everything you can about the day you were abducted."

Bucky thought back for a minute. "I picked up some bread at the deli- Nelson's deli- for my mom, and walked to that corner with Steve. We said goodbye because he lived- still lives, maybe?- on Washington and Front and my house is closer to Vinegar Hill. But I guess you know that already."

The officers nodded. "Please continue." 

"Well, I was walking past a small driveway in between a backyard and a building that was for lease. It used to be a carpet store but it finally went out of business a while before. There, this tall man was loading up some boxes, but it looked like he was struggling with them a bit. I said, 'Mister, do you need some help?' My dad always helped our neighbors with stuff like that so I didn't think anything of it. He looked at me for a moment and I got a little bit of a bad feeling. Guess I should have listened to that and high-tailed it out of there, but I didn't want to be rude. He said, 'I could use another hand.' So I came over and I grabbed the other side of the box. As soon as we slid it into the back of the pickup, his arm came whipping towards my head, and the blow just dropped me to the ground, you know? I think I cut my temple on the corner of the door when I fell, and I was too stunned to even try crawling away. Then he must have kicked me or something, because I was knocked out after that. The last thing I remember seeing was the back tire of his pickup and the dusty concrete."

"Then what happened?"

"I woke up when the pickup was moving- the cab had just a tiny crack of space behind the driver and passenger seats because I couldn't even roll over. I was blindfolded, and my wrists and ankles were tied. We drove for a long time, but of course I had no idea where we were or where we were going. Then he threw me into this dark underground room with these three other boys."

“You never tried to escape?” 

Bucky scowled at them. “Of course we did! Hundreds of times. Hell, half the time we spent down there was tryin’ to think of a way to best him. Schmidt’s taller and stronger, even now. He had an electric grid that he slid over the door. He would pick one of us to beat the hell out of if we acted out. We didn’t want the others to get hurt on our account."

“Was that the worst that he did?” A pinched look crossed their faces, and Bucky could tell that they’d had some awful cases. 

“The beatings, a lack of food sometimes. He never did anything like what you’re thinking.” Some tension drained out of their faces. “Mostly he had us shuck corn and pack it up, do whatever farm chores we could in such a small space. Gave us lessons and made us type up things for him on a typewriter."

“And why did he capture you four? What was the reason?"

Bucky grimaced. “HYDRA. Some sort of new world order he believed in, he said he took us in as disciples, said we were gonna shape the world. He drew up this weird skull thing with octopus legs and made us wear it on our clothes, kind of worship it. I was mad because I’d just done the Greek mythology unit in social studies and a Hydra has a lot of heads, not legs. What the hell, right?"

\---

After they finished their individual interviews, it was kind of fun to sit down with the Commandos and go over their collective history. Meeting their families and having lunch together was awesome too. Morita’s little sister Madelyn and Becca had hit it off, and had already swapped virtually all of their contact information. Bucky was shocked by the chocolate bar sizes of their phones, and how _much_ they could do. It was the modern **Home Alone** Talkboy to his eyes. He swiped Becca’s every chance he got to thumb through a new app, after being expressly forbidden from looking at her photos. Jeez, it’s not like he’d totally forgotten what privacy was! Besides, she was the one who was always barging into his room. 

He was amazed by Skype in particular- not just talking, but seeing your friend's face from across the world! It was like magic; Bucky had wanted a set of walkie-talkies to share with Steve but those could only get reception within half a mile. Becks and Madelyn had shown how to use it to the fellas, moving apart into other rooms at the precinct, the girls laughing at their awed faces. The Commandos carefully wrote down their home phone numbers to swap and make do until they got their own phones. 

Even with their families beside them, the stress of the past few days was wearing them down. They were put up in a local hotel, and Bucky had never been so relieved to not talk when he finally got to crash out for the night. He was overwhelmed by the intensity of the press waiting to catch a glimpse of them, ducking his face whenever he left a building, Becca barking at them to back away. Thankfully, the police said they didn’t have to do a press conference, but that it would be good to do an in-depth interview before the trial.

Some of their belongings had been cleared by evidence, and Bucky now had his ancient, torn Jansport back. Schmidt had thrown away his textbooks before putting him below ground, though he’d thankfully gotten to keep his copy of _The Outsiders_. All of them could practically recite the damn thing by now, and the few other books they had held onto. His mom and Becks went out to the local drugstore to pick him up a variety of magazines and paperbacks. He flipped through the men’s magazines with fascination. Johnny Depp was still popular, and long hair wasn’t totally uncool. Fashion was incredibly different, and he tried to get a handle on it. He’d never bought his own clothes before.

\---

Finally, the day came when the police told them they were free to go. Their families left them in the conference room to give them some privacy to say their goodbyes.

The Howling Commandos gathered together, crushing each other in a hug. They had kept each other alive, they had formed a family and guarded it fiercely. And now they were spiraling away and couldn’t say for sure when they’d be together again. It was frightening. Bucky knew Steve was waiting for him- his mother had told him everything Steve had done for their family over the past 12 years, and that security was the only reason Bucky wasn’t panicking now, at their separation.

Dugan patted Bucky’s back. “You’re just a train ride away so I’ll be seeing you. You and Steve come down to Philly, too, you got that? Any time. I wanna meet this kid."

“You guys have to come for Saint Paddy’s Day! The river’s dyed green!” Gabe exclaimed. “Oh, and we can actually drink now!” He realized. The other guys laughed and patted his head. He was the baby, after all. Bucky was grateful that he had such a big family to watch over him.

“People like to talk trash on Fresno, but California is California! Come in the winter when you’re sick of being cold. We can go to Disneyland.” Jim smiled. The other Commandos caught each other’s eyes and nodded at this, a gesture as good as a pinkie promise.

Then, one by one, they headed off to the airport to start their lives anew.

\---

Steve craned his neck, anxiously bouncing his leg as he waited outside the arrivals exit. Sarah brushed her hand down his neck reassuringly, her other hand holding the colorful 'Welcome Home, Bucky!' sign Steve painted yesterday.

He spotted the pack of dark haired Barnes as they made their way into the ring of people holding signs. Bucky’s eyes scanned across the sea of strangers’ faces and finally raised up and locked onto his, his face breaking out into the brightest, most blinding smile. 

Immediately, they both broke out into a run, the world a colorful blur around them, meeting in the middle. Steve threw his arms around Bucky and lifted him off his feet, whirling him around like Bucky used to do to Steve in his backyard to make him laugh. He gently set him back down before pulling away to get a good look at his face, brushing a gentle hand over his left cheek. He was really here.

Bucky’s mouth was hanging open with shock, his eyes exactly the blue-gray shade he remembered as he looked up at Steve, broad shoulders and nearly half a head taller. “How- I thought you’d be smaller.” He murmured with wonder. “No one told me. Steve-“

Steve’s face crumpled, and he folded inwards, leaning to rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead.” He sniffled into Bucky’s shirt, and Bucky could feel hot teardrops patter along his collar. Steve was trembling, and that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m right here.” He whispered, rubbing his back like he used to when Steve had trouble with his asthma. He was vaguely aware of his family moving to stand next to Sarah, watching them, their mothers dabbing at their eyes. “There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you.” He said fiercely. 

“Me too, Buck. I never forgot about you.” Steve drew in a shaky breath. “I lost you!” The old ache of the guilt was flaying him open, forcing him to utter that withheld confession. "I was the last person to see you, it was my fault, if only I had gone with you, walked you home, then maybe…I’m so sorry.” The droplets had become a downpour, streaking down his shirtfront.

Bucky stroked his golden hair, the same shade after all this time. “Hey.” He said sharply. Steve lifted his head, his cheeks a blotchy red. “You do not feel guilty for what that crazy man did. I won’t allow it. I’ve been found. You hear me, Rogers?” Steve nodded obediently, his eyes still red and over-bright. He drank in the sight of his best friend, gloriously alive and giving him a well-deserved scolding. Just like old times.

“Good.” Bucky said, tugging at his wrist. “Let's go home now. I was promised a New York slice of pizza and somebody better pay up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so pleased with the reception this has gotten! Thanks to all of you who have left kudos and comments- they really make my day and encourage me! Again, constructive criticism is welcome. 
> 
> It should be getting more lighthearted from this point on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has his first night back at home, and he and Steve go on adventurous errands to get him set up in his new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Harry Potter spoilers? For the small percent of people who haven't finished the books a decade later? I think you'll be all right.

They joined their families, Bucky with an arm slung around Steve’s shoulder like he used to, even though it was a little awkward now that he was shorter. Shorter! He felt like his brain was flipping over trying to come to terms with that- his forehead only reached Steve’s nose when he used to be able to put his chin on the top of his head. 

“Wait, wait, let me get a picture of you boys.” Sarah said, pulling out a hefty-looking camera.

“Wow!” Bucky said, gawping at the size of it. Sarah laughed at his expression.

“Steve bought it for me for Christmas a few years ago- I always liked taking pictures but the film was too expensive for me. Now you just need a SD card and you can reuse that as many times as you'd like since it's digital. Now, smile!” She snapped a few photos of them and smiled as she flipped back through them. “Those were great! Come here, give me a hug!” Bucky happily took her in his arms. She looked vibrant, not tired at all like he remembered. She had struggled to raise Steve by herself after his father had died when he was a baby. He knew that Winifred had helped her a lot, never complaining about watching Steve after school until he could be home on his own.

“Let’s go grab a cab, everyone.” George said, wheeling the big bag he and Winifred shared. Steve shook his head.

“I’ve got our ride taken care of.” He said, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

\---

“All right, Steve!” Becca pumped her fist as she dived into the stretch limo that pulled up. “This is awesome!” He heard her say from inside. She was probably already toggling every switch. “There’s a sunroof!"

Bucky stared at him, stunned. “A limo?"

“I have to let my best friend come home in style, right?” Steve said. “Don’t worry, it’s my boss’s. He insisted.” He greeted the driver as he got out. “Thanks for doing this, Happy! I really appreciate it.” 

“My pleasure, Captain.” He started escorting the women into the back.

“Who on earth is your boss? Rockefeller? Captain?” Bucky’s head was spinning.

“Let’s talk on the way home.” Steve motioned him in.

“C’mon, spill!” Bucky said as Steve sat onto the plush leather seat next to his. “Your boss?"

“Tony Stark. I’m on his personal security team."

Bucky’s face was blank. “Who?” 

“Ah, shoot, you wouldn’t have heard about him when we were kids. He’s an absolute genius, a billionaire, but he used to be a big playboy partier and dealt with weapons manufacturing. He turned over a new leaf a few years back and switched to making clean energy technology. He has a tower smack in the middle of Midtown.” Steve knew he was glossing over everything that had happened in Afghanistan, but he didn’t like to bring up Tony’s past without him there. “He’s a little crazy but we get along surprisingly well."

“Wow…” Bucky said, taking it in. He sounded like the last person Steve would ever spend time with, let alone work for. “And what happened to you? How did you change so much?"

Steve settled in for the story as the limo zipped along the highway. This was a totally different experience than his return home with Tony just a week ago. Everyone was sitting at the other end to try to give them some privacy.

“Well, my mom got me into a long-term medical trial when I was fourteen. It was upstate, and they basically tested out a bunch of different things to help all the health issues I had. Some of it was a little weird, like learning to sing to help with my lung control for my asthma, things like that. With the special food they made and a specialized back brace, I grew eight inches in a year."

“You went away?” Bucky said with wide eyes. 

“Yeah, they had to monitor me all the time so it was just easier for me to live at the facility. They brought in a teacher to homeschool me. And I was, um, dealing with some mild depression, so they had therapy for that too.” Steve said, his ears reddening a little. 

Bucky felt tears prickling at his eyes. “Because of what happened to me?” 

Steve sighed. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Bucky, I was really hurting. We spent damn near every second together and then you were just gone. It was like I lost a limb or a lung or something. I had no idea how to cope. I struggled with severe insomnia and sometimes I couldn’t get up in the morning. It was all I could do to get through the rest of that school year."

Bucky couldn’t help a few tears from falling. “I’m so sorry you went through that, Steve."

“Oh, don’t cry- it all turned out okay. Dr. Erskine was the best, and he helped me through it. I wouldn’t be the person I am now if it wasn’t for him. I think I handle things better than most people do because of all the counseling I had. I keep up with exercise even now and I was strong enough to join the army after high school."

“The army?!” That was by far the biggest shock yet. Bucky was bowled over. 

“I didn’t have any savings for college, and I ended up being good at it. Really good. I made it up to Captain and served on special forces before my honorable discharge.” 

Bucky shook his head, still speechless. That was a lot to take in. Soldier Steve.

\---

“Welcome home, Bucky!” Becca said, wrapping her arms around him after they got through the door.

“Come on, give me the grand tour.” Bucky held out his arm for her like they were at a ball. Giggling, she slid her arm onto his and they headed into the living room. 

It was weird, Bucky thought, to see where their line of school photos started with his first day of kindergarten photo, all gap-teeth and overalls, and then his junior high sports pic come to an abrupt halt. Becca's continued on. She had her high school volleyball snapshots, her arms blurred and her face twisted with exertion, then looking beautiful in a dark blue dress for prom, and then her with their parents, beaming, in her high school graduation photo. He was suddenly awash in a flash flood of anger- all of these moments had passed by and there would never be anything he could do to get the time back. He took a deep breath to try to squash the feeling. It would only hurt him, or worse, if he took it out on his family.

For all the missing time, home still felt like home. His mother’s goofy Precious Moments figurines still lined the cabinets by the TV, and the same flowered curtains were over the kitchen sink. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. It still smelled the same, even, a jolt of recognition to the brain. He could have been kept underground for his whole life, but he’d never forget whatever it was that made up that scent.

“Hey, where is everybody?” He spoke up, eyeing the new, amazingly thin TV, a little mismatched with their massive cabinets surrounding it. “It’s quiet all of a sudden."

“Maybe they’re talking in the backyard? Or picking up the pizzas? I dunno.” Becca replied.

“Oh yeah, that must be it.” Bucky nodded. He and Steve had been deemed responsible enough to pick them up by themselves just the autumn before his kidnapping. He could still remember how cool and grown-up he'd felt, carrying the box back through the echoing streets as sun set, the light all golden and the leaves red, heat radiating through the bottom of the cardboard and nearly searing his hands.

Apparently, Steve was living in his own apartment now. And he must have lived in different countries when he was with the Army. Becca was living in Virginia most of the time for school; she said she took the train down as if it was no big deal. Which it wasn't. Because people did it all the time. Bucky's memory of ultimate freedom spanned a few city blocks. It was daunting, how big the world was after he'd been living in a cell.

"Okay, I'm going to go up to see my room. You guys...never did anything with it?" Bucky said hesitantly. 

Becks shook her head. "We never touched it. Steve cleaned it up this weekend for you though, while we were in Indiana."

"Why?" Bucky said incredulously. "I could have been dead, it's been 12 whole years. You could have done something with all that space-" He cut himself off abruptly at the look on his sister's face. Her eyes were filled with tears, her muscles strained into a grimace to keep them back.

"And what, Bucky? I could have tossed your clothes and made a walk-in closet for myself? How could you even think that? We've been living on hope this entire time...it would have killed us to throw away your things." She brushed at her eyes roughly, giving him a gentle punch to the shoulder. "Might as well go see it, butthead."

He grinned slightly at the old insult, swooping down to give her a quick hug in apology. "All right, come on then.” There was still a twinge in his stomach despite her small smile. His family had ceaselessly suffered and worried over him and he'd drudged up that pain.

They clumped up the stairs, and he reveled in hearing the familiar creaks. He'd once been an expert at sneaking downstairs and avoiding them during sleepovers; he and Steve would have increasingly daring 'missions' and one of the objectives was that they couldn’t wake anyone up. The best failed mission was the August water balloon fight at 5 in the morning, just as the sun was rising. They’d managed to fill and tie off all the balloons in pitch black darkness but their helpless shrieking as they were doused had woken everyone up. Man, his mom had been so pissed! But for some reason, she had let it slide with a scolding and made them chocolate chip pancakes after they’d toweled off and changed. His eyes crinkled at the warm memory as he reached his door, pushed it open and flicked on the light to-

"SURPRISE!" Everyone shouted, startling him.

"You guys were hiding up here?" He laughed and glanced around the room with wide eyes. "What is this all for?" There was a banner stretching across the wall, nearly invisible behind a web of brightly colored streamers. "A birthday party? In June?"

"A very, very belated one." Steve said, standing up to full height. He’d slouched beside the dresser. He once hid under a nightstand when they were kids. Obviously, the game had become a real challenge for him. "I found your gifts piled up in the closet, so I rewrapped them for you to open when you got home."

"And cleaned, and decorated, too?" Bucky said. He stepped forward to throw an arm around him. "You're the best, Steve, really." 

"It was nothing." Steve ducked his head a little, a sheepish gesture that was nearly comical now that he was a giant instead of a little wisp of a boy. His cheeks turned a shade rosier- he never could handle praise.

"He boxed up your old clothes for you to go through, Bucky." George said, motioning to the stack of them.

"Oh yeah, I don't know if you want to keep any of them? I brought some of mine over until we can go clothes shopping. I think they'll fit you." Steve frowned.

Bucky shook his head, laughing. "I think I'll be drowning in them, pal. I hope they're drawstring everything." He cracked his knuckles. "Let's open the presents!"

The doorbell rang. "Oh, that'll be the pizza!" Winifred spoke up. "You can open your presents after dinner, Bucky."

"But mom!" Bucky nearly whined. She fixed him with a stern eye- clearly, he wasn't getting a free pass just for being alive. 

His shoulders slumped. "I'll go set the table." He said in defeat.

Steve was right on his heels as they made their way downstairs, chuckling. Bastard. At least he was carrying an armload of presents to set down on the coffee table. Bucky brightened as he spotted the delivery guy through the rippling window panes that lined the door. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of pepperoni, sausage, olives, mushrooms, and green peppers.

"Here, your dad gave me the money for it." Steve held up a 20 dollar bill and 4 singles. "It's $19.50, so the extra is for his tip." He explained, as if it was a common occurance for your 26-year-old friend to not know how to pay the pizza man. He may be a bastard, but he's the best damn bastard in all of New York, Bucky thought with a rush of gratitude as he took the money. 

\---

It took a second for Bucky to realize why Becks and Steve were laughing their damn heads off.

“I’ve never heard someone eat pizza with such relish.” Sarah commented. Steve had obviously been trained by the master in angelically innocent tones and facial expressions. 

Steve’s eyes were watering. “Good, huh?"

Bucky managed to stifle a moan as he took another bite. “Good.” He mumbled around it. He was bubbling with happiness; he’d never thought he’d have this again, an ordinary pizza night with his family. 

“Gross! Finish chewing, neanderthal!” Becca kicked his shin under the table. Trust a little sister to ruin a moment. 

“Rebecca, stop it. And don’t eat yourself sick.” George warned, raising an eyebrow at them. His father was a hard man to read- a veteran lawyer on retainer for various corporations, he was the ultimate authority figure in Bucky’s life, and he’d always felt a mixture of admiration and a little healthy fear for him. Now, he could clearly see the warmth and happiness in his face at seeing his two children bickering together. 

Relaxed and cheerful, they polished off the pizza and were chatting around the table when the lights dimmed, Winifred bringing in a cake from wherever she’d squirreled it away. Bucky hadn’t seen any sign of a pastry box when he’d walked through the kitchen earlier. Mother magic, he guessed.

The (chocolate frosting, yes!) cake had big 2-6 candles on it, but also 13 little ones. All of his missed birthdays at once.

Sarah took a video of them with the fancy camera as they sang the birthday song. He heard the shutter fire rapidly as he leaned over and blew out the flames. He had nothing left to wish for this year. 

\---

There were way more presents in the living room than there had been up in his room. 

“I may have-“ Steve gave a funny little cough. “Picked you up a few more things."

“Steve!” Bucky said. 

“Lemme spoil you a little.” Steve raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, You're really gonna make a fuss? 

Bucky threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Let’s open the old ones first.”

He pulled the paper off of a small rectangular gift. “Mario Tennis! Awesome!”

Steve smiled. “That one was from me. I dusted off your N64 too so we can play it later.” Bucky remembered that Mario Tennis had come out a long time before his birthday- Steve and his mom were always scrimping for money, so the games they exchanged usually weren’t brand new. He had cherished every one of them, and besides, they shared everything anyways.

The rest of the gifts were things Bucky vaguely remembered wanting, but apparently a good amount of it was outdated now. So much for the personal CD player- he’d marveled at the digital music stored on Becca’s phone. He had gotten a pretty sweet LEGO set. Some stuff was timeless.

He moved on to the small pile in different paper- whatever Steve had bought for him last weekend. He tore off the wrapping on a set of DVDs.

“Spider-man!” He exclaimed. “They made more?! Why are there two different actors?” 

“It’s called a reboot. They made the first 3 with Toby Maguire and then decided to start another set of them. I like both of them- they’re pretty different takes on it. My favorite’s the second one with Dr. Ock."

“Awesome.” Bucky breathed. He and Steve had killed entire afternoons whipping through the house and leaping over the furniture pretending to be the webslinger. 

“Don’t even bother with the third one!” Becca shouted. 

"You've got to watch the third one." George said wryly. "Everyone else suffered through it."

The crown jewel of his new gifts were the 3 books he was handed last. Bucky turned to Steve with shining eyes. “Harry Potter’s finished?” 

Steve nodded. “The movies are too. I solemnly swear not to spoil anything for you."

Suddenly, Bucky felt like he couldn’t breathe, dropped down from his excitement just a second ago. The world had kept on going without him, and it was overwhelming. Steve must have picked up on his anxiety. 

“Enough for now, let’s go play that Mario Tennis.” He rested a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Becca was picking up the torn wrapping paper. “Dibs on Daisy!” She called after them. "I kick ass with Daisy."

“You know Yoshi's my favorite!” Bucky called back, his voice just a little strained. “Can you stay over tonight?” He whispered to Steve.

Steve’s face softened. “Of course. We’ll put the couch cushions on the floor.” He patted Bucky’s shoulder and busied himself with setting up the system, handing him a controller as it booted up.

He laughed when Steve picked Baby Mario. 

“Really?” 

“Never underestimate the little guys.” He said firmly, wiggling his broad shoulders like he was actually going to play a set instead of just button-smashing.

“You’re such a dork!” Bucky chuckled and nudged him with his foot.

Their parents joined in too, with Winifred picking Boo, George as Waluigi, and Sarah as Bowser. It ended up being Becca and Sarah in the finals, all of the rest of them hooting and hollering. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard- Steve’s polite, delicate mother ferociously maneuvering her controller. She was absolutely ruthless against Becca, and end up the overall champ. Bucky wiped away tears of laughter when Steve raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip in exaggerated shock. As if he didn't know he was her spitting image, in looks and spirit.

\---

“You seem…mellower than usual.” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes at Steve and scanning him up and down. It was true though, something about him wasn’t so tightly drawn as it had been. The night had wound down, and Steve had walked Sarah home before coming back. Bucky had showered while he was gone. He was absolutely swimming in his borrowed clothing, but damn was it comfortable. He was going to steal all of Steve's hoodies in the fall. 

“Huh.” He said, flopping down on the spread couch cushions. “I don’t know why that is, you’ll have to tell me when you figure it out.” 

Bucky made an affirmative noise. “You sure you’ll be all right on those?"

“I joined the army, Buck, I’ve literally slept on rocks. This is the Ritz Carlton in comparison. Besides, my scoliosis was corrected and I do exercises to strengthen my back so I don’t have pain there anymore."

Bucky crawled into his narrow twin-sized bed, and pulled the chain on the lamp. He peeked over the edge to see Steve. “That explains why you're a brick wall. I’m really happy for you, Stevie, I worried so much about you all these years. You can’t imagine what a surprise it was to see you so big at the airport. It took me a while to find you cause I kept looking a foot down."

Steve laughed. “I don’t blame you for that. You look exactly like I thought you would though, handsome enough to put me to shame.” 

“No way!" Bucky protested, startled.

“Yes way!” Steve smiled at him. “The attention you’re gonna get is gonna weird you out. Don’t worry, I’ll fend them off for you. I’m a trained professional."

Bucky shook his head, but his mouth tilted up in a grin. “Whatever you say, Cap."

“That’s more like it! I’m not gonna lie to you though, getting healthy felt like a miracle after all those illnesses I had. I’ll never take it for granted. Just like you."

Bucky sucked in a little air at hearing the rueful tone in Steve’s voice. He lowered his arm down to touch Steve’s shoulder. “Hey. Stop blaming yourself.”

There was just enough light streaming through the curtains to see Steve’s face, his eyes glittering as he put his warm palm over Bucky’s hand. “I’ll try." He sighed. "Are you all right? Comfortable?"

“It’s a little weird.” Bucky admitted. “I feel like the room’s shrunk.” 

“You’ll get used to it.” Steve murmured sleepily. “I’m so happy you’re home. You're here."

Bucky squeezed his hand. "Right here."

"Don't worry so much. I'm gonna take care of you." 

In the dark, lying like this, it was like they were 13 again. Everything with Schmidt could have been a bad dream. Their breathing slowed, and Bucky focused on matching his pattern to Steve’s. It took a little time, but eventually he faded into sleep, his hand still hanging off the bed.

\---

The rest of the week passed by in a blur. They'd go out in the morning to take care of things for Bucky, and relax in the afternoon. Bucky’s mom, a dental hygienist, usually worked the early shift until 3 o’clock. 

Bucky had been helpless when they walked into the clothing store, wearing an odd mix of Steve and George’s clothing. "Where do I even start?" 

Looking around and appearing nearly as befuddled as Bucky, Steve consulted a little notebook in his pocket. "I asked my friend Natasha for advice. She said two pairs of jeans, one blue, one black, shorts, t-shirts, a nice jacket, some sportswear, swim trunks, socks, underwear, sunglasses, a wallet and a good quality messenger bag. She expressly forbade backpacks." He brightened as he got to the 'Shoes' sub-heading. "At least I know where to get running shoes for you. You interested in joining me in the mornings sometimes?" 

Bucky stared at him blankly. "I haven't ran a mile since P.E. class. And even then I walked with you instead of runnin' it." 

Steve nodded. "We all have to start somewhere. We'll go slow and build up. I have full confidence you can beat my buddy Sam when the time comes. I'm counting on you." He held his gaze steady at Bucky until he caved. As he knew he would, the punk.

"Fine! But I'm not happy about it!" Bucky joked, shoving at his shoulder to push him away. “I wanna meet these friends of yours, you know. Now, what other shoes on there are gonna lead to me chasing you through the damn park?"

Steve danced out of Bucky's reach. "None, just 'incognito' shoes, whatever those are. I might have to call her. She said anything fancy and cold weather can wait until late September. Think we can handle this much?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go wander around." 

\---

Bucky loved shopping.

He darted from display to display like a hummingbird, touching everything to get a feel of the fabric and flipping through the hangers. Some of it looked so cool. Skinny jeans? Combat boots? Converse? Obviously, this wasn't going to be the painful experience he had anticipated. 

"How's this hat look on me, Stevie? Do I look like a classic mobster?" Bucky tweaked the brim at him.

"Oh no. No, no." Steve said, coming over and flipping it off his head. "Absolutely no fedoras, Nat would have my head.” He plunked a baseball cap on him instead.

"What so bad about fedoras?" Bucky asked, totally puzzled when Steve started laughing.

He picked up the basket. "Let me tell you a little about the depths of the internet..."

\---

On Friday, they had to go rifle through all the filing cabinets in George's office to find Bucky's birth certificate and social security card before they headed to the DMV to get him a non-driver's photo ID. They waited in line the rest of the morning, Bucky getting increasingly antsy in line. 

"I didn't know being an adult would mean so many boring waits." He whispered to Steve. 

“There are a lot of those. But it’s just this one time here until we come back to get you your driver's license." Steve bumped his shoulder in consolation.

Bucky shrugged. "That'll be worth the wait." 

"Once we get your ID, we can get you a cell phone tomorrow morning! You can spend all day setting it up and playing Angry Birds." 

Bucky perked up at the thought. "I'm gonna play with every phone in that store. And use that Skype magic to call the Howling Commandos."

Steve smiled at the mention of his brothers-in-arms. “Why that name?” 

“I dunno, we would play around like you and I did when we were kids and that was the one that stuck. I probably took inspiration from the sleepover missions we did, y’know, we thought it sounded cool. And because we were below ground we could be as loud as we want and not bother anybody."

Steve let out a surprised bark of laugher. “Oh man, I nearly forgot about those sleepover missions! My favorite was the one where we tried to make an igloo even though there was only like a foot of snow. And when it collapsed on you when you tried to shape the inside.” 

“You pushed it in on me, I know you did!” They squabbled about it in line until they started getting the evil eye from the person in front of them and quieted down. 

Thankfully, the DMV clerk went about his job mechanically and didn't ask any questions about why someone their age didn't have any form of photo ID. 

"It's such a bad photo!" Bucky complained, fussing with the tag on his new wayfarer sunglasses as they finally escaped the clutches of the dimly lit building and went wandering in search of lunch. 

"Bad DMV photos are a rite of passage, Buck. Yours really isn't all that bad." Steve said distractedly, scanning the street for anywhere appealing. 

"Lemme see yours!" Bucky demanded. Steve pulled out his card and handed it over, to which Bucky squawked in outrage. "You look like a damn model! I look like a deer in the headlights! So unfair!"

Steve finally looked at him straight on and smirked. “You never saw my first one and you never will. Because I ran it through the garbage disposal when it expired."

Bucky gaped at him, then pouted. Actually pouted. “I can’t believe you. Dirty punk."

Steve waggled his eyebrows. “Only for you, Bucky Bear.”

“Hey! Only my mom can call me that and you know it!" Steve had tormented him with the nickname ever since he first heard it. When Winifred was saying a heartfelt goodbye to Bucky before his first sleepaway outdoor science camp. Unbelievable. Who does that?

“Whatever you say, Buck. Now, have you ever had Indian food?"

Indian food was amazing. There was so much delicious, spicy food. He ate so much naan he could hardly move. This was the best day ever. 

\---

More boring waiting at the bank before they could open up an account for him, and now Bucky had three things in his new leather wallet- his ID, a shiny debit card, and a punch-card for Bombay Masala, the Indian place. There was a little attachment for small photos and he really wanted to get some for it. Maybe Becca could help him with that; she’d been off with her high school friends in the morning but they spent every evening together. They were supposed to go to the movies that night.

\---

Finally, the day came where he could get a phone of his own. He was practically bouncing as they walked into the shop. George had come along to add him to their family plan, and Steve was acting as technology guru. 

“Yeah, unlimited data and texting, and maybe some more minutes than usual so he can call the other guys.” 

George nodded. “He’ll probably be more comfortable talking on the phone than messaging for a little while."

Normally Bucky would have been miffed at the way they were deciding things for him, but he really did have no idea about any of this. And there were so many things to distract himself with- he pawed at a new model, checking out all the features. This was so exciting! And he didn’t have to deal with the boring paperwork stuff so it was even better.

He got home and carefully saved all the Commando’s home numbers into his contacts. He called Morita first after he thought about the time zone differences and decided it wasn’t too early. His heart pounded a little as the phone rang. He’d only talked to his family so far, and he had been too excited to be anxious.

“Hi, Mrs. Morita, it’s Bucky. Is Jim home?” 

“Sure, sweetie, let me get him for you. How has everything been?” She was such a warm and gentle person it was hard to believe prickly Jim came from her. 

They caught up for a few minutes, and things were generally going the same way over there. 

Jim got on the phone. “Bucky! I don’t have a cell phone yet, I’m going on Monday. Are you okay?"

They chatted for a few hours about how they were adjusting and how strange some things were. Jim lived in a pretty rural area of Fresno and he was itching to learn how to drive. Said he felt a little isolated at home all day. Bucky heard him moving around the house, and the soft clack of computer keys. 

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously. He hadn’t bothered with a computer yet.

“I just wanted to see if I could log in to see my bank…what?” Morita’s voice sharply rose.

“What is it? Jim? Are you all right?"

“There’s twenty thousand dollars in there. Bucky, I didn’t even have a bank account until yesterday! What the hell?” 

Bucky’s heart thrummed. He didn’t know how to check his account. “I have an idea. Let me call the others, and I’ll get back to you."

“Okay, bye. Jesus.” Morita hung up with a click.

First, as he would in any panicked state, he called Steve, who called his boss. 

“Yeah, it was him, Bucky."

“Why? How did he even know Jim’s account?” 

“He made a fundraiser for you guys, he said that was just some money to get you started. You guys have a lot of things to take care of and he didn’t want your families to struggle for anything. Trust me, Bucky, there’s no strings. Tony has so much money this is like a drop in the bucket for him. Seriously, the guy has no concept of a reasonable amount."

“If you say so. Tell him thank you for me.” Bucky said. He still couldn’t believe it. They’d spent six hundred dollars on clothing for him and even that was an amount he had trouble wrapping his head around.

“Tell him yourself when you meet him.” Steve said fondly. “I think he’s secretly looking forward to seeing you and hearing bunker stories."

Bucky shook his head. “Sounds like a big weirdo to me."

“You have no idea."

\---

In the evenings, Bucky watched movies at home with a revolving crew of his parents, or Steve and Becca, or with everyone over like the first night. Becca took him to see Mad Max at the theater and he couldn’t talk about anything else for a few days. Before bed, he would settle in for another round of Harry Potter.

Steve should have been expecting the phone call that came at eleven thirty p.m. He’d just gotten out of the shower- he’d been working a gala as security for Pepper and was glad to be out of his expensive tux. His heart jumped from seeing Bucky’s name on the screen- he would never call so late if it wasn’t something bad.

“Bucky, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He spoke quickly into the phone, his mind already going into military command mode when he heard hiccuping sobs.

“Sirius died, Steve!” Bucky cried. “He and Harry were going to be a family, and he’s gone just like that?”

“Shh, shh, calm down. I know it hurts, I reacted the same way as you. Sirius did it to protect Harry. You know he was struggling in Grimmauld Place, he didn’t want to live like that. If he had to go, he was glad to do it fighting for his godson.” Steve tried to console him.

“God, he had such a shitty life, didn’t he, and none of it was his fault.” Bucky’s speech was slowing down as his tears stopped, though his voice was still thick.

Steve remembered exactly how heartbroken he was about that book. It was even tougher on him because of what had happened to Bucky- vanished somewhere he could not follow. He'd bawled when Harry had fruitlessly tried to contact him through the two-way mirrors. He had reread the other ones often, but he didn’t open Order of the Phoenix unless he wanted to make himself suffer. “No, it wasn’t. He was a good man. Sometimes that’s all we have at the end of the day.” 

Bucky was quiet for a little while. “Sorry I called so late. I was freaking out and I had to talk to someone."

“You know you can call me any time. I’ll never be mad at you for that. Do you need me to come over?"

“No, no…I’ll be okay. Hey, Steve?"

“Yeah, Bucky?"

“You’re the best guy I’ve ever known. I mean it. Thank you for helping me so much, I know you’ve had other things to do."

Steve curled his shoulder around his phone. “Other things, but not better things. I’ll see you tomorrow for jogging?"

“You bet. 9AM sharp to break in my fancy new Mizunos. Good night, buddy."

“Night, Buck.”

Steve plugged in the charger and set the phone next to him on the bed to track his sleep. When he checked it in the morning, he’d slept like a rock. Even more alert and cheerful than he normally was, he smiled brightly at the coffeepot picture and sat down at the kitchen table to lace up his shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay! I meant to update a week ago but my life's been chaos. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I've been loving all the comments and kudos, you guys are the greatest!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has his first encounter with one of Steve's friends, and learns more about Steve's life in the 12 years they were apart.

 

 

“All right Barnes, you got this.” Bucky goaded himself on as he stood outside his front door, wearing his obnoxious yellow running shoes and clenching a bottle of water already dripping with condensation.

 

Barely a week and a half after he’d come home, his mom had already gone to work and he had to get to the park by himself. And he was scared, the fear making his throat constrict. He was kicking himself for turning down Steve’s offer to pick him up, but…he’d walked alone to this park since he was in elementary school. It was just a few blocks away. And he was not going to let Schmidt make him a shut-in for another goddamn second. He breathed deep and adjusted the armband that held his phone, cards, and house key. Determined as a double-dog-dared-Steve, he took his first few steps back into the world.

 

\---

 

“So. How do we do this?” Bucky asked when Steve met him by the big rock.

 

Steve grinned as he took in the sight of him, leaning against the boulder as he fiddled with his headphones. He was all decked out in his brand new sportswear and still blinking slowly like he wasn’t meant to be vertical so soon after sunrise.  The big rock had been their usual meet up spot when they were kids, on the end of the park closest to their houses. It was a fairly big park, and Steve figured it was better to start out easy.

 

“We gotta stretch a little.” Steve said, smoothly dropping into a deep lunge and motioning for Bucky to follow. He sank down a bit and winced. Bucky was…really inflexible. And his face was souring ever so slightly at how little he could actually bend.

 

“It’s all right!” Steve encouraged him while concealing how much he wanted to laugh at Bucky's wet-cat face, voice as peppy as a teacher’s. "Flexibility takes a long time to build up, but it’s important for your overall health. Cardio, weights, and some kind of stretching and you’re good to go. You shoulda seen me when I first started doing any exercise at all. I was like a gingerbread man.” That brought a smile onto Bucky’s face- he’d thought Shrek was hilarious. 

 

“I think you could wear gumdrop buttons pretty well, Stevie."

 

Steve’s lips quirked up just a bit. “Ha, ha. Just picture poor tiny me, struggling along the track, swimming in my clothes.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, probably picturing it with perfect clarity. "Okay now, left side.” They went through Steve’s usual warm-up and Bucky looked cheered up, rolling his shoulders.

 

“I’ll go slow for you. We’ll just start with a mile, okay? We can take breaks."

 

\---

 

After 12 years spent thinking that he may die in a bunker in Indiana, Bucky now knew how he was going to die. Sucking in air as his footsteps kept time with Steve, who looked like he may as well be lounging in the grass for how relaxed he looked, on this little paved pathway. 

 

“Break time?” Steve asked, slowing down. 

 

Bucky nodded, flushed from the exertion. They sat in the grass and drank some of their water. 

 

“I don’t see what you get out of this, Steve.” Bucky said.

 

“I dunno.” Steve bumped his shoulder into Bucky’s. “I guess it was the first athletic thing I could see myself getting better at. I could run for longer and longer, and then it just kinda became a way for me to chill out, listen to music, enjoy the outdoors. I feel better getting out of the house."

 

“I have missed being outdoors.” Bucky said. “I really loved this park when we were kids.” 

 

“Wanna go run to the carousel?” Steve asked. 

 

“Yeah. Let’s do that..” Bucky agreed, popping up and extending a hand out to pull Steve up. “Take it easy on me." 

 

They took another water break there, watching it light up and the mechanical horses start their dizzying gallop. Steve’s phone chirped.

 

“Hey, Bucky, my buddy Sam just messaged me, said he’s out doing his run on this side of DUMBO. You wanna meet him? We can grab breakfast together."

 

Bucky blinked. “Yeah! That sounds great, Steve.” He was itching to meet Steve’s friends, and catch a glimpse of how his life had gone on without him there. He felt certain that any friend of Steve’s was bound to be someone he liked, too.

 

“He says he’ll be here in five."

 

\---

 

Sam jogged up to them, a beaming smile on his face. “Hey Steve! Always good to see you man, my momma’s been pestering me to invite you over for a Sunday dinner. And this must be Bucky,” He extended his hand out and Bucky shook it a little shyly. “Sam Wilson. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m glad you made it home safe and sound."

 

“Thank you.” He was relieved that Sam didn’t make a big deal about it.

 

“You’ve gotta come over with Steve for that dinner now, you hear? Any friend of Rogers’ is a friend of mine."

 

Bucky smiled. “That sounds great."

 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. You wanna grab some brunch?"

 

“Do I!” Steve piped up, and Sam laughed, shaking his head. 

 

“This guy eats like a horse. We better order ahead of him or else he'll clean the place out.” 

 

Bucky's face crinkled up. “My mom always served him more than he could eat and he felt bad wasting it so he’d slip it on to my plate whenever she turned away."

 

Sam barked out a laugh. “Now I have never seen this guy turn down anything. It must have been from his miniature days. I swear, I did not believe it when he said he was 5’2” until he was fourteen until I saw some photographic evidence."

 

 

They started through the park toward the restaurant, Sam guiding the way. They came to an abrupt halt when Bucky gave a startled yelp, flinching away from one of the large greenish generators that dotted the paved walkway. 

 

“What’s the matter?” Steve immediately rushed toward him. Bucky waved him away, though he shivered a little in the humid sunlight. 

 

“The hum of electricity reminded me of the grid he put over the door…I burned my hand on it a couple of times and for a second it was like I was back in the bunker.” Bucky shook his head roughly, as if trying to dislodge water from his ears. His fists were clenched, hiding the silvery faded scars.

 

“You’re all right now.” Sam murmured soothingly. “You’re safe in Brooklyn. You’re back home.” Bucky swallowed and nodded, but his eyes were still shadowed. "You know that was PTSD, right? Post-traumatic stress disorder? You in therapy yet?” Sam said, concern written all over his face. 

 

 

“I’m going to my first session in a few days. They wanted to give me some time at home before we looked for a doctor."

 

“All right, man, just as long as you go. We’ve all got some form of it, you know, not just soldiers and you. You can get it from being the passenger in a car that rear-ends another. My sister was in one five years ago, a road trip with her friends, and to this day presses her foot down to brake if we get too close to another car even when she's a passenger. So don’t think you’re special.” Sam joked. It was the right approach to take as Bucky gave a little smile back, his tense shoulders relaxing.

 

They came out of the park to the smell of fresh coffee. Across the street was the Brooklyn Roasting Co. and Bucky’s mouth was already watering. The first time he’d ever tried coffee was at the police station in Indianapolis, and Becca had shown him how to make it at home. He’d gotten up too late to have any this morning.

 

All sorts of people were sitting at the tables outside by the art-covered white walls. Bucky took a second to appreciate their unique clothing and tattoos, some people typing away on a laptop, the big and small dogs laying obediently at their feet, panting.

 

“Wow, is this how adults eat breakfast?” Bucky said, craning his head around as they walked in, looking at the rough industrial look of the café and the many varieties of coffee they had brewing. The other two smiled at his excitement. “What should I get?"

 

“They have a Maple Shay here, it’s like a latte, which is espresso and milk, sweetened with maple syrup.” Steve said. “I’ve heard it's good."

 

Bucky nodded, wide-eyed. 

 

“Go look at the display case.” Sam motioned him on. “We’ll hold the spot in line."

 

Bucky trotted back a minute later. "Mixed berry donut.” He said seriously. “Do you guys want to have a look?” 

 

Sam shook his head. “I usually just get a croissant. Steve always gets a couple of things.” 

 

Steve had the grace to blush a little. “I can’t help that I like to try new things yet still need to satisfy my passionfruit craving."

 

Bucky managed to order his food on his own. He was still pretty anxious around unfamiliar people. Part of it was that he didn’t know how to interact with them. Steve had picked up on it, helping to buy his clothes when they went shopping. The Indian guys at Bombay Masala (his point card now had two stamps filled toward a free pakora sampler) had always greeted him and Steve warmly, so he’s gotten better around them.

 

Bucky watched Sam to see what he did, and went down to the end of the counter to wait for his drink.

 

“Wow!” He couldn’t help exclaiming when his latte was set down before him, with a leaf drawn onto the foam. The barista, a young girl with a lip piercing, quirked a smile at him and looked pleased. “Steve, look!” 

 

Steve whistled. “That’s really cool. I gotta figure out how to do that.” He eyed Bucky. “You should take a picture of it."

 

Bucky rolled his eyes, but considered it. “Yeah, maybe.” He carefully picked up his tray and went over to where Sam had claimed a table. He surreptitiously snapped a photo.

 

Steve settled down next to him, putting sugar in his Americano. Bucky wrinkled his nose.

 

“I don’t know how you drink coffee without milk in it."

 

“Yeah, well I don’t know how you drink sugar with coffee in it.” He shot back.

 

Sam just shook his head. “You two are a trip."

 

Steve leaned back, slinging his arm over the back of Bucky’s chair. “We were basically Siamese twins in our youth."

 

Bucky laughed. “And now I can’t even steal his coffee."

 

“Well, Brooklyn’s offerings are a lot better than what we got in the Air Force.” Sam said, lips pursed as if remembering the taste of commissary java.

 

“Air Force?” Bucky said in surprise.

 

“We can’t all be the tough guys.” Steve butted in, grinning. “Aw, rats." His empty packet of sugar blew away from breeze created by the ceiling fans, and he got up to retrieve it. Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah yeah, man, you tough guys just call me up every time you have to get bailed out."

 

“You bailed out Steve?” Bucky said slowly, eyes narrowing with suspicion as he shot him a glance. He turned back to Sam. “Is that how you met? What did he do?” 

 

Behind him, Steve was slicing his hands through the air in a mayday signal. Obviously, Bucky hadn’t heard that story yet. 

 

“That’s a story for another time, my friend.” Lucky for that big lug, Sam was the master of laughing it off. Bucky still had a hint of a frown, but he let it go.

 

\---

 

They headed back to Steve’s apartment after breakfast. Bucky had never been there before. It was a nice three-story brownstone that didn’t have an elevator.

 

“Boy, did I have a ton of fun dragging all your damn furniture up three flights of stairs.” Sam joked as they made their way up the central, winding staircase.

 

“Yeah, good thing he’s not 5’2” anymore.” Bucky laughed back at him. He turned to Steve and obnoxiously batted his eyelashes at him. “But he was so adorable!” Steve stuck his tongue out at him but smiled a little. 

 

“I was pretty adorable.” He jimmied the front door open and moved aside to let Bucky and Sam in first. 

 

“Whoa, Steve, this is awesome!” Bucky bounded through the entryway into the living room. He never imagined that a room could scream a person’s style, but here he was, surrounded by clean lines and solid furniture that made up Steve. The couch was squashy and large enough to fit Steve if he laid down on it. The bookcase was packed, photo frames and little sculptures set in front of the cracked spines of the novels. 

 

“Thanks!” Steve said. “Tony’s dad apparently bought this building after World War II, and he rents it to me really cheap. Even though he was miffed I wouldn’t just come live in his tower."

 

Bucky, flopped down on the couch, wrinkled his nose at him. “Your boss sounds like a big weirdo, Steve."

 

Sam barked out a laugh at that. “Stark’s pretty intense, but he takes care of the people who manage to worm their ways into his inner sanctum. Grow up rich like that and you don’t trust easily."

 

Bucky considered that for a moment. “I guess I can understand that. People must not have been genuine friends to him.” 

 

Sam pointed at him. “You’re already halfway there."

 

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll like you once he meets you, Buck.” Steve groaned a little. “He’ll probably want to throw me a birthday bash next month."

 

Bucky perked up on the couch. “Yeah! That sounds really fun!”

 

Sam patted Steve’s shoulder in sympathy. “You gotta let him do it this year."

 

Steve slumped. “He’s gonna go overboard again, isn’t he?"

 

“Oh, you bet your ass he is.” Sam laughed. 

 

Bucky got to his feet. “Can I look around some more?” 

 

Steve led him into the kitchen, where he poked around his cabinets, peppering him with questions. 

 

“Quinoa is kind of like couscous, it’s softer than rice…hummus is a sauce from Mediterranean cooking, it’s a little garlicky, you’ll like it…” Steve managed not to laugh at Bucky’s guess at pronouncing ‘quinoa’. His enthusiasm at exploring and his mere presence had really brightened Steve’s life and he smiled as he watched him dig through his pantry.

 

Bucky stood up, finally satisfied with his snooping. He froze when he saw the picture by the coffeepot. He reached out a hand to run a finger along the frame. 

 

“I’d forgotten about this.” He looked at Steve. “You’ve had it up all this time?” He ask solemnly.

 

Steve nodded. It felt like they were having a whole conversation without saying anything. “Every morning."

 

A ghost of a smile passed around Bucky’s face. “Think I could get a copy for my wallet?"

 

\---

 

Steve’s bedroom was pretty sparse, just his big bed and clothes neatly lined up in his closet, a desk in the corner. He was ridiculously neat, probably habits carried over from childhood. Sarah had an extremely small apartment.

 

He spotted Bucky eyeing his phone dock made out of wood that Pepper had bought him off etsy and made a mental note to get him one for Christmas. 

 

Bucky gasped when they went into Steve’s second bedroom, whirling around with delight. “You have a studio?” 

 

The second bedroom was small but got the best sunlight of any room in the apartment, and it had an easel propped up in the corner and supplies littered over the drafting table. “I’ve kept practicing.” Steve said. “Even sold a few pieces online."

 

Bucky was beaming. “I’m so proud of you, buddy."

 

“He even made one for my mama for her birthday.” Sam said. “She hung it above the mantle, now you know that means she loves it."

 

“Oh hey, you know what I was thinking?” Steve said, walking further into the room. “If I pushed the drafting table over to this wall, I could probably fit a Murphy bed- one of those kinds that flip down from the wall?- and a little dresser in that far corner, so if you ever wanted to stay the night here you could have your own space."

 

“Really?” Bucky’s smile grew impossibly wider. “That would be so cool! You’re really close to my school so I can come by for lunch or when you have a day off.” 

 

“That’s it, then!” Steve grinned.

 

Sam was smiling too. “I’m so happy for you guys. It seems kind of surreal, huh? I’d heard about you a little, Bucky, but it’s like no time has passed at all between you two. I can’t believe you were taken for all that time.”

 

Bucky nodded. “It feels like a crazy dream now that I’m home."

 

“I was worried we wouldn’t click well all the way up until the airport.” Steve admitted a little shyly.

 

“Now see, that’s why you took all the stupid with you.” Bucky smirked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

 

\---

 

They settled into the living room to talk, Steve getting up to get them some lemonade after a while. Bucky seized the chance.

 

“Now, I want to hear this from earlier. What dumbass thing did Steve do without me there?” He demanded, a scowl already darkening on his face.

 

 

Sam sighed. He knew that hadn’t been the end of it. “Rogers! You better get in here 'cause your boy knows what’s up.” He hollered into the kitchen.

 

Steve skulked into the room with the drinks held in a triangle in his hands, looking like he’d already gotten the scolding of a life time. 

 

 

“Sit.” Bucky growled at him.

 

He sat. Curling up over his legs, he folded himself up like an enormous origami crane. He was already looking pitiful, but Bucky forced himself to be strong.

 

“All right, Sam, let’s hear it."

 

Sam leaned forward. “Well, in the air force I was what’s called a para-rescue. It’s a pretty risky job. If any of our guys were in trouble, we parachuted in, retrieved them, tried to do whatever medical care possible on them, just enough to get them out of the danger zone and back into our safe territory."

 

“So you know how to skydive, in a war zone, and you’re a doctor?” Bucky looked so awestruck, like Sam had just had a beam of heavenly light descend upon him like Jesus in a Renaissance painting. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whipped his head towards Steve, who went from crane to pillbug, curling in on himself a little tighter. “But what’s that got to do with him? He must have done something stupid to meet you then."

 

Sam laughed. “I was a field medic, which is a little different from a doctor. I’m not about to do open-heart surgery. Well, he’d gotten himself into some trouble and I was on the response team closest to him.” He looked at Steve pointedly.

 

Steve sighed heavily. “I’d raided a extremist base with the rest of my special forces team, and during the fight I spotted a major player in the operation- a man who went by the code name Crossbones- escaping onto a small aircraft. He was planning on bombing the hell out of Moscow. They’ve speculated that he wanted to start a war between the US and Russia. I managed to disable him, but the controls were locked on the destination and I didn’t know enough about piloting an aircraft to land it safely at an airport. I radioed for help and sent my location.”

 

He took a deep breath, and Bucky realized that this wasn’t going to be a minor injury at all. All his previous irritation turned to icy fear. He reached out a hand and gently rested it on Steve’s arm, the crook of his elbow. Steve closed his eyes. “They told me that I would be flying directly over a small body of water and that that would be my best bet. I had to ditch it in the water."

 

“Oh my god, Steve.” Bucky gasped, clutching his arm. He pulled him towards him, and Steve went without protest. He smelled faintly of sweat but he didn’t mind. Bucky cradled him and looked up at Sam with wide-eyes.

 

“We got there within ten minutes of the crash. The aircraft had broken apart into so many pieces, it was a miracle we found Steve at all. We pulled him out and revived him, got him to the nearest military hospital. We had to call in divers to search for Crossbones’ body."

 

Steve lifted up his head, the tenseness in his frame draining away and he relaxed against Bucky’s side. “I was in a coma for a few days, but the doctors said I healed like a miracle. They think I hit my head against the dashboard during the crash, compounded with a few minutes of oxygen deprivation. After that, I was discharged and came back to New York. I was home for a few weeks, living with my Ma when this guy knocked on my door."

 

Sam laughed, and despite his upset at hearing what his best friend had endured, it was infectious enough that Bucky couldn’t help smiling. “He was towering in the doorframe and just blinked at me. My family’s from Harlem, so when I was on leave I decided to check up on one of my patients."

 

Steve shook his head, smiling. “He brought me a pie and asked me if I’d gotten my land legs yet."

 

“I finished up last year and now I’m volunteering at the V.A. while I use my G.I. bill to become a therapist. Steve and I hit it off so I’m pretty glad I rescued him.” 

 

Bucky fought back a grin. “I’m pretty glad you did too. Good thing he’s so hard-headed.” He stroked Steve’s hair and Steve rolled his eyes at him. 

 

“Quit getting all sappy on me."

 

“Only if you stop giving me reason to.” Bucky shot back. “How are you with flying nowadays? You must have to for your job with Stark."

 

Steve shrugged. “I only get a little wound up when there’s turbulence. I did a lot of immersion therapy, where they put you back in similar situations that trigger your fear and have you regain control over it. It helped a lot. I did flying lessons, so I actually know how to land a plane now. Most commercial aircraft is different than the one I crashed, so it doesn’t feel quite the same. Speaking of Stark, I gotta give him a call.” Bucky released him from his hold and he stood up and stretched his arms up, yawning obnoxiously. Bucky poked a foot at his butt and he darted away towards the kitchen, laughing. 

 

Sam shook his head, but it was easy to tell he was amused. “I’m a little older than the other students in my classes, so I can understand how you feel about going back to school. I know it’s different, but I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll tell Steve to give you my contact info.” 

 

“Thanks, Sam, I might take you up on it. I am pretty nervous about it.” Bucky frowned, his throat tightening. “And thank you for taking care of Steve while I was gone. He had a lot of trouble making friends when we were little, and the whole time I was in Indiana I just thought, ‘Does he have anyone to sit with at lunch? Is someone bullying him? Who’s helping him with his math and science homework?’ Because that’s what I was good at, and he was good at English and history. And art, of course. Obviously he doesn’t need me for that anymore, but he definitely needed a friend who had his back."

 

Sam grinned at him. “Why does it not surprise me that you kept him out of trouble. The boy’s a magnet for it. And for what it’s worth, Bucky, I’ve never seen him so happy. I think having you back took off a big weight he’s been carrying. He’s always been pretty reserved, but he’s not afraid to be affectionate with you."

 

Bucky blinked hard. “I didn’t realize…we were always jumping on each other as kids, so I thought he would be like that with everyone."

 

Sam threw back his head and laughed. “He doesn’t even like to give hugs, really. You must be something special.” 

 

Bucky grinned and shrugged. “Must be my natural charm.” He joked.

 

\---

 

They walked into the kitchen to see Steve pacing back and forth down the length of his counters. He was still on the phone.

 

“Yeah…yeah…I got you…no, no plans yet…” He let out a huff and nodded through a long stream of chatter. “Fine. I’ll invite them. Yep. See you Thursday morning. No, I won’t forget the sunglasses. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and slumped down into a kitchen chair. “One of these days."

 

“Stark making you rock the MIB look again?” Sam said knowingly.

 

“Yeah.” Steve said pitifully. “It’s going to be over ninety degrees on Thursday."

 

They turned in surprise when Bucky barked out a loud laugh. “Sorry,” he waved his hand, “I understood that reference."

 

Steve and Sam laughed too, Steve’s funny giggle making all of them laugh harder.

 

“You definitely earn that paycheck, man.” Sam said, wiping his watering eyes. "What else were you talking about?"

 

Steve sighed. “He did insist that we have a ‘rager’ for my birthday. The last thing I need is a repeat of Vegas."

 

Sam laughed, obviously aware of the story. “Oh damn, Bucky, you’ve never drank before, have you? Oh man."

 

The flush suddenly drained out of Steve’s face as he looked horror-struck. “We gotta keep Stark away from him, Sam."

 

Bucky looked back and forth between them. “Why?"

 

Sam shook his head. “Tony has the alcohol tolerance of a Viking. I’ve only ever seen Thor beat him out. And Thor’s descended from Vikings. At least he’ll feed you the good stuff, but you’ll probably be down before the fireworks start."

 

“Oh.” Bucky said. “Cool!"

 

Steve put his head in his hands. “Glasses of water. Electrolytes. A bucket. Meds. Greasy breakfast. All the things I gotta ask Jarvis to prepare for me. Do you think he could get a saline IV?"

 

Sam laughed. “Looks like you got it covered, but that last one might need a little work. All right fellas, I got a class in an hour so I gotta head out. Bucky, it was great to meet you. Let me know how your first day of school goes, alright?"

 

“You got it.” Bucky smiled and held his hand out for a fist bump. 

 

\---

 

Steve was beginning to regret Bucky ever discovering the emoji keyboard when he woke up to a coded message on Thursday. Bucky was set to start GED classes the following Monday, so Steve promised that he’d spend all of Friday with him.

"I swear I learned morse code faster." He muttered. "Okay, two men- that'd be us, penguin, question mark, hot dog, right arrow, sun, question mark." Totally stumped, he typed _Uncle_ to Bucky.

The reply buzzed in his hand a second later. _Do you want to go to the zoo or Coney Island together tomorrow?_ And then another, _where else would you see a penguin in New York?_   Steve groaned and put his head back down on his pillow.

\---

Bucky sent the same message to Dugan without the last question mark and got a hot dog, exclamation point, ferris wheel, a smiley face and a thumbs up.

\---

_I’m feeling Coney, it’s been ages since I’ve been._

_I’ll come pick you up_

_9 o’clock._ Steve texted.

_Time to get suited up._ He added on a frowny face with a sweat drop, a man in a suit, and sunglasses.

 

Bucky just sent back a song note and _doo doo doot doot doot doo_ , which Steve _knew_ was the Men In Black theme song.

_Very funny, jerk_

\---

Steve was a little hesitant to ride his motorcycle to pick Bucky up, but he figured that if he was uncomfortable, they could leave it at the Barnes’ place and take the subway. And parking it at Coney wouldn’t be difficult on a weekday.

So that’s how he drove up, with a roar and in full gear, cutting the engine just as the front gate unlatched and swung open. He pulled off his helmet.

A few moments passed in silence.

"Where has my friend gone?" Bucky asked, staring at Steve like he’d never seen him before.

Steve's throat tightened, taken aback and suddenly nervous. "What'ddya mean?"

"I left you a tiny dork and now you're so cool!" Bucky jokingly wailed, throwing an arm over his eyes, dramatically leaning into the fence.

Immediately drained of tension, Steve laughed and shook his head, coming over to plunk his spare helmet on Bucky's head. "You're such a jerk. You don't know what life has been like for me, having to hide my inner nerd in front of all my friends.”

Bucky grinned crookedly at him. "Well, Stevie, you're free to be you now that I'm here."

Steve rolled his eyes. “I'm overwhelmed with relief.” He took off his backpack which was stuffed full. “Here, I brought my old set of leathers for you, they should fit. Probably."

“Why do you wear them when it’s so hot out?” Bucky asked curiously. He knew even less about motorcycles than driving.

Steve grimaced. “If you were to fall, it’s better to rip those up than your skin. I saw lots of horrible photos when I was getting licensed for it."

Bucky’s face soured to match his. “Oh, ouch.” He wriggled them on over his clothes, but Steve frowned at his sandaled feet.

“We didn’t buy you any kind of boot, did we? Go get your sneakers on and I’ll put your sandals in my pack for the ride."

Bucky frowned at him. “You’re gonna carry this stuff all day?" Steve shook his head. “No, I’ll get a coin locker.”

Bucky nodded at this, running back inside to get his shoes. He came back and squashed his sandals at the top. Steve made a motion to grab it but Bucky raised his hand to stop him. “Let me take that.” Bucky said. “That’d be easier, wouldn’t it?"

“Oh yeah, I guess so.” Steve said as he handed it over.

He hopped back on his bike, patting the remaining space behind him. "C'mon, let's get outta here before we lose the day. I'll go slow, just hold onto me and holler if you feel scared." Bucky awkwardly balanced himself, then lightly cradled his arms around Steve's waist.

"In your dreams, Rogers.” He whooped out an exhilarated yell as Steve turned around and took off, at a much slower pace than he usually drove.

\---

It was an absolutely perfect day. They rode the Cyclone first, both because of the short line and because Steve remembered their disastrous time from their 5th grade ‘promotion’ party and was dead-set on doing in before they had lunch. Steve insisted on winning him a stuffed animal from a carnival booth, tossing frisbees with incredible skill, Bucky cheering him on in delight and surprise. “We played at the base when we had free time.” He shrugged.

Bucky gleefully wiggled in between Steve and his enormous teddy bear on a bench, with his long-awaited Nathan’s hot dog and chocolate shake in hand.

“Hello, beautiful.” He cooed. “You look so cool and refreshing."

“Oh my god, stop,” Steve said, cracking up next to him. “Please stop talking to your food."

“I’ve dreamed of meeting you here. Your glistening skin haunted my thoughts every waking moment.” Bucky held up the hot dog to face him in the cradle of his palms, continuing on to the soundtrack of Steve’s laughter. Which, of course, merely amped up his efforts. He delicately stroked his finger along the bun.

“I can’t breathe,” Steve gasped, clutching at his stomach and gulping for air, and Bucky finally quit it. “I’m not lying.” Bucky told him seriously, plucking one of Steve's steaming hot curly fries out of his tray while he recovered, making a muffled noise in protest.

They saved the Wonder Wheel for last, rocking it to make each other scared just like they used to. Bucky took in the beautiful view at the top, absolutely beaming. He turned to Steve, who smiled but also looked emotional, as if he could feel exactly what Bucky was feeling: Being on top of the world and free after being underground for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really can't apologize enough for taking so long to post this chapter! I've had it half-completed for ages on my computer, but my life went sideways and I wasn't in the mindset I needed to be to write. I'd like to believe I could write through hell or high-water like a lot of the Stucky authors, but I really can't. I hope to have the next chapter up much sooner. Thanks for sticking with me, and thanks especially to those who left comments to encourage me to keep going! Have a wonderful holiday season, everyone!


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